


Respice Ad Astra

by RJam9



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Horror, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just saw that one wiki article about the eighth doctor getting a tarot reading, Light Angst, Mindfuck, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Psychological Horror, Spoilers for Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Tarot Cards, The Time War, and went ‘mine’, i know nothing about tarot cards, i want to say this is horror but it probably isn’t, if this seems shitty it’s because it is!, please hope I’m using that tag right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RJam9/pseuds/RJam9
Summary: ... aut faciem monuerit***After The Doctor gets knocked into a coma, Yaz and Ryan decide to dive into their mind and try to wake them up. However, to do so, they have to travel in an hellish landscape filled with secrets from the Doctors past.***(Completed)
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Ryan Sinclair, Thirteenth Doctor & The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan & Graham O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair, Yasmin Khan & Graham O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair, Yasmin Khan & Ryan Sinclair
Comments: 22
Kudos: 91





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> we’re really doing this.
> 
> alright, my first multi-chapter fic on this platform. I have all the chapters finished I just need to edit. will update every Wednesday until completed.
> 
> enjoy!! : )

Yaz blinked her eyes open.

The familiar roof of her bedroom on the TARDIS greeted her as her eyes came into focus. The lights were warm and easy to look at it, and she sighed. It felt good to wake up here, she always felt well-rested. That had to be the best sleep she’d had in months.

Slowly, she sat up, yawning and stretching her back out with a satisfying ‘pop’. Her room on the TARDIS looked almost like her one back home, expect with different bedsheets and a ceiling dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars you usually saw in childrens rooms. Her parents never let her get any when she was younger, because they tended to be hard to get off and they didn’t want to risk peeling the paint, but she had been surprised when she had first stepped into this bedroom that it had them.

Yaz, slowly, got herself to her feet and started to get dressed. She put on a red-and-white t-shirt and jeans, then after a moment her jacket. She had no idea where they were going today, but she wanted to be prepared. After finishing getting dressed, she started to tie up her hair.

By the time she was ready, she could hear movement in the hallway and opened the door.

“Hey, Ryan.” She greeted. He stopped when she popped her head out, already dressed and no doubt heading off to find the Doctor.

“Hey.” He said back. She slipped out of her room, shut the door, and the two started walking again towards the console room. 

When they got there, she was happy to see the Doctor waiting by the console. It was a bit odd not to see the alien dancing around trying to pilot or half buried in wires doing repairs, but she wasn’t one to complain because their face lit up when they entered.

“Yaz! Ryan!” They exclaimed. Yaz smiled and walked over to lean against the console, Ryan following.

“Hey, Doctor.” She replied. “Where are we today?”

“Well, for our first adventure back.” The Doctor twitched, barley noticeable when the words left their mouth. However, they quickly smiled, pretending that no one noticed. “We’re going to a market!”

Her and Ryan exchanged glances. “Sounds good.”

It  was their first adventure since the entire ... ordeal with the Master and Gallifrey, and breaking the Doctor out of the Judoon prison. However, ever since they had returned to the TARDIS, the Doctor had been silent, tense. Trying to talk to them about what had happened in the final confrontation with the other Timelord, and even the fact that their home planet was  burned to the  ground was met snappish words and curt answers that had no substance.

For weeks before the eventful day, the Doctor had been distant, and they had just wanted to know what was wrong. Now that they knew, it was even harder. She had no idea how to help, and it tore her up inside.

She was spared from saying, or thinking, anything more when there was shuffling from the hallway towards the bedrooms and Graham emerged. He was dressed, but still looked sleepy, yawning when he entered and rubbing his eyes.

“Hiya Graham!” The Doctor exclaimed, rushing around the console to pull one of the millions of levers dotted around it. Yaz thought most of them were probably for show. “You’re awake just in time. I just set in the coordinates for our next stop!”

“Wait, can’t I eat first?”

The Doctor frowned, thinking. “If you’re able to eat in five minutes, sure.”

Graham sighed. Yaz chuckled at the older man’s grumbling as he latched into a handrail when the TARDIS lurched to the side as the Doctor pulled another lever. She could almost pretend they were back to normal, before all this craziness — but there was a tightness in the Doctors movements, a different way they held themself.

Yaz bit her cheek. Things had changed, and she was scared they were irreversible.

~*~

“Alright fam, come on now!”

Yaz followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS, taking in the scene around them. It looked like am Earth farmers market, but she could spot at least ten different alien species just around them, ether walking on the cobblestone streets, situated at a stall or chatting idly. All the stalls held items she couldn’t even begin to describe, and food that made her mouth water.

Ryan and Graham came out beside her, looking around. The Doctor waited a few steps forward, grinning. “Welcome to the international Silipun market!”

“Woah.” Ryan muttered. She nodded in agreement.

The Doctor started to walk again, gesturing them to follow, so she hurried on before she got lost, Ryan and Graham close behind.

The Doctor started rambling as they walked through the market, and Yaz tuned them out. Not that they didn’t like the interesting facts, but everything around them was a lot more interesting then when the market was established or who had ownership rights.

They looked around at the stalls, bartered with the shopkeepers. The Doctor even gave them some credits to spend on something, and Yaz ended up buying a small jar with ten different types of sand inside. It was kinda of kitschy, but the sand was alien so she found it cool.

It was until the sun was high in the sky did Yaz realize they had been there all day, and her stomach was growling. The Doctor seem to notice their hunger, though, and bought some crystal candy from a stall for them.

“Come on Doc’, none for you?” Graham asked as they handed the candy to them all. Yaz licked it. It was sweet, and tasted sorta like maple syrup but a little bit off.

“I’m not hungry.” The Timelord said as they moved to the side of the path, out of the stream of other customers.

“You haven’t ate all day.” Yaz interjected, coming to Grahams defensive.

“I’m fine.” The Doctor said, a little bit snappish. They all decided to drop the subject.

Looking out into the crowd as she ate, Yaz felt herself get lost in the moment. The taste of the candy on her tongue, the beat of the sun on her scalp, and mindless chatter of Ryan and Graham as they argued who had the best flavour. 

She glanced at the Doctor, who was bathed in the sunlight that only made their frown more pronounced. She noticed the alien was narrowing their eyes into the crowd, and she followed their gaze to a stall.

It was manned by humanoid alien with green skin and black hair. Yaz could tell they were elderly by their hunched body language and taunt skin, and they were arguing with another alien of the same species. Both were looking angry, and she was worried a fight would break out, but then she gasped when the customer suddenly grabbed an item off the stall and booked it.

The would-be seller cried out in outrage, but they were stuck behind their stall and looked too weak to run after the way younger thief. However, the Doctor rushed forward instead, coat swishing out behind them as they growled.

“Hey! Hey you!” They yelled. “Stop! Get back here!”

The thief paused in the middle of the crowd, everyone else starting to look around, confused and turned to see who was yelling a them. They looked scared, with wide eyes and clutching their stolen item to their chest. However, when they saw the Timelord running towards them, they bolted, weaving throughout the crowd.

“Stop! Stop them!”

“Doctor!”

The Timelord had disappeared into the crowd after the thief. With Ryan and Graham close behind, she dropped her candy and ran after them.

~*~

When they found the Timelord, the sight made her heart drop.

“Doctor? Doctor!”

The alien was crumbled on the ground in a nearby alley, out of sight of the rest of the market. Yaz rushed to their side and dropped to her knees, scrambling to grab her friends wrist. Both pulses were steady when she took them, and she sighed in relief, but all the worry instantly came back when she inspected the Doctor more throughly.

It looked like the thief had hit their head with something heavy. There was a small wound on their forehead, just under their hairline, that was bleeding profusely. She whipped around to face Ryan and Graham, who had both stopped behind her.

“Anyone have bandages? Or anything that could stop the bleeding?” She asked. As they two searched their pockets, she tugged the cuff of her jacket down to cover her hand and gingerly pressed it against the Doctors wound. The Timelord barley moved.

“I have some napkins.” Graham said, handing them over. She took them, removed her sleeve now coated in the blood, and applied pressure with the napkins. She tried to recall her medical training — wait fifteen minutes to see if the bleeding slowed. If it didn’t, get help.

“We need to wait fifteen minutes.” She told the boys. “If the bleeding hasn’t slowed, then we need to find a hospital.”

“Should we just bring them to the ... an actual doctor now?” Graham asked. Ryan had now dropped to his knees beside her. He didn’t seem to know what to do, so he awkwardly took the Doctors hands and brushed dirt off them. Yaz noticed they were littered with little cuts, probably from when the Timelord had fallen.

“I would rather not try and navigate this place on our own.” She said. 

Graham nodded, frowning. “We shouldn’t leave them here. Can we bring them to the TARDIS? The Doctor brought me to a medbay once when I twisted my leg, we should bring them there.” 

She thought about it. “After fifteen minutes.”

~*~

The bleeding did slow, thankfully, but the Doctor didn’t wake up, or even move. Their pulses were steady, but it still filled Yaz with a sense of dread when the Timelord didn’t even stir when they all awkwardly luged them up between them.

They hadn’t been that far from the TARDIS, Yaz realized, but it seemed a lot longer when you were carrying an unconscious body between them. Graham had taken the Doctors shoulders, Ryan their legs and Yaz their middle. They avoided the main market, obviously, and took a few backroads just out of sight.

As they approached the TARDIS, Yaz realized it might be locked. However, it swung open easily without any of them even touching the door, which was kinda of freaky, but she had more important things to worry about.

Once they were inside, Yaz felt a little bit more calmer at the familiar glow. She looked up at the high ceiling. She always felt awkward talking to the TARDIS (and that it was sentient) but she pushed aside her feelings for now. “Can you lead us to the medbay?”

A light on the grated floor lit up. Before Yaz had time to think about how she just had a conversation with a ship, they were moving again.

The medbay was the first room they found. There was no door, only a wide arch. Inside was a stark white, a contrast to the dimness in the hall, and the walls were lined with beds in clean sheets. It was a such a disconnect from outside that it took Yaz a few moments to process the sudden change. 

Had the medbay alway been this close to the console room? She felt like she would have noticed it if it was.

Didn’t matter. They placed the Doctor on the fourth bed, which happened to be the one with the most medical equipment around it. Her arms felt a little tingly when she finally let go of her friend, but it was nothing compared to numbness settling in her entire body as shock set it.

“We need to get bandages.” She muttered. Graham nodded, and rushed over to a cabinet back by the entrance. Ryan shuffled out of the way. She knew he wanted to help, but she was the only one there with professional medical training (well, not professional. A passing knowledge.), and Graham had lived with a nurse.

Graham returned with the bandages, and she started to wrap the Doctors injury. Her hands were shaking and her stomach churned anxiously. Her cuff was still stained with the Doctors blood, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The Doctor was always rushing into danger, but she couldn’t help but think this wasn’t just a normal chase. The thief had looked scared, frightened to be caught. She always prided herself as having a good read on people, and they didn’t seem like the type to restore to violence. Had the Doctor provoked them in some way? 

She shook that idea from her head before it could barrel down the tracks. 

_Please be okay_. She thought, pleading with herself.  _Please wake up, Doctor. Please be okay._

~*~

It had been a week since the Doctors accident. They still hadn’t woken up.

“We can’t stay here forever!”

“And what do you propose we do? Fly the TARIDS?”

She sighed at Graham and Ryan’s fighting. “The Doctor will wake up soon, then they can fly it.”

“We don’t know that!” Ryan snapped at her. “They could be stuck in coma for years! What are we suppose to do then?”

“Ryan!” Her and Graham both exclaimed. She knew he was only acting out because he was worried, but it still stung. If the Doctor never woke up, she didn’t know what she would do.

They were startled from their argument by the door clicking open.

They all whirled around to see the TARDIS doors pushed open from the outside. Through the crack, she could see it was dark out, the market abandoned for the night as all its vendors slept. However, someone stepped into the TARDIS and she gasped.

The Master was standing there, glaring at them as if they had walked in on him. He looked a little worse for wear, with bags under his eyes and hair in disarray across his face. He did look very good for supposedly being dead.

“I was hoping you’d be asleep.” He muttered to the tense, shocked silence.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Ryan cried.

“You’re parked in the middle of a market, kinda hard not to find you.” He replied, more to the TARDIS then to them. She noticed he was wearing his outfit from when they last saw him on Gallifrey, though it looks a bit more matted and ripped.

“Not what we asked.” Graham said. “Why are you here?”

The Master locked the TARDIS doors before stalking over to the console, barley sparing them a glance when he answered. “The Doctors injured. Where are they?”

“Like we’d tell you.” She snapped back. If he thought they were gonna let them anywhere near their friend, she swore ...

“I can feel them.” Finally he turned to them, tapping his temples. “And I know they need help which you  _humans_ can’t give. So either you tell me where they are, or I search the TARDIS until I do and waste valuable time that could be better spent helping them.”

The TARDIS whined in complaint. She couldn’t understand it like the Doctor could, but it apparently didn’t like the Master being here as much as they did. However, it had been the one who had let him in the first place, and he was a Timelord as well ...

She sighed in defeat, then turned to lead him towards the medbay. “Come on.”

“Yaz!” Ryan lunged forward and grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her jacket. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, I don’t like him being here ether, and really don’t want to let him by the Doctor.”  _When they’re helpless._ She almost added, but didn’t. “But right now he’s our best chance at helping them.”

Ryan seemed to debate this, and she glanced at Graham. The old man stepped forward and placed a calming hand on his grandsons shoulder. “Come on, son. Yaz is right.”

Frowning, Ryan let go. The Master watched their interactions with a tilted head and hands clasped behind his back. Slowly, she lead him out of the console room. What she told Ryan was true — he was their best bet at healing the Doctor — but it didn’t stop the anxiety gnawing in her gut.

If he hurt them, she would not hesitate to punch him in the face.

~*~

For the record, she almost did sock him in the face.

When they entered the medbay, he rushed to the bed, and gingerly sat down in the edge. The Timelord slowly reached forward to brush a strand piece of hair behind the Doctors ear, and she nearly growled. However, she bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood. No need to get on his bad side when they needed his help.

“What happened?” He asked after a moment, turning to them. She was taken back by the amount of emotion she saw in his face, she couldn’t quite place it.

“They chased after a thief in the market, and we think they hit them in the head with something.” Graham informed. “They’ve been asleep ever since.”

“Of course they did.” The Master mumbled. 

The room was silent when he turned back to stare at the sleeping form of the Doctor.Then, he whipped around again. Seeing someone jump between moods so quickly was something she wasn’t use to.

“I will be staying here to help them.” The Master said, not taking his eyes off the Doctor.

“Wait, can’t you anything now?” Yaz stepped up and glared at him.

The Master growled in annoyance. “If I could, I would. But I need to check them over first to find why they’re still asleep.”

“They were knocked unconscious.” Ryan mumbled.

“Yes, but they should have woken up by now.” The Master said. “Which means something else is at play.”

Yaz thought about it. She knew the Master was speaking the truth, she could tell by his tone. Besides, if he wanted to hurt them or the Doctor, he would have done it by now. So, she crossed her arms and frowned as he snapped at them to leave him alone.

She just hoped the Doctor woke up and he could leave soon.

~*~

Two days later came their answer.

“I’ve managed to find a way to wake the Doctor up.”

They all turned from their breakfast to see the Master standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He had made a habit of doing that — walking in as they were doing personal stuff. Not that she minded the updates, but she would prefer them when she wasn’t sleeping (or, in one famous case, the shower).

“That’s great!” Graham exclaimed. However, noticing the crestfallen look on the aliens face, added. “What’s the catch?”

The Masters lips twitched as if he was going to smile, but decided not to. “Complicated. Come on.”

Wordlessly, they all got up and followed him down the hallway towards the medbay. Anxiety clawed at her gut, making her swallow back bile and stuff her hands into her pockets. For the past week she had been worrying sick over the Doctor, but now they finally had a way to wake them up. But, like Graham had said, what was the catch?

The Master entered the medbay and didn’t even bother to wait for them, instead marching over to the Doctors side. The Doctor was still asleep, breaths even and light, but Yaz noticed a metal ... claw, the only way she could describe, fastened around their head.

She felt the protectiveness rise inside her again and quickly rushed after the Master, who stood beside the Doctors bed almost like a guard on duty. Ryan and Graham came over after a moment, inspecting the claw on the Doctors head just like she had.

“What’s that?” She asked, gesturing towards it. Ryan reached forward to touch it, but Graham slapped his hand away.

“To put it simply, it’s a device that will allow you to travel into the Doctors mind and wake them up.” 

She whirled at him. “Pardon?”

“You heard me perfectly well.” He snapped. “They’ve become trapped inside their own brain, slowly killing themself. Someone will have to go inside and find them.”

Those words hit her deep. Killing themself? Oh, god.

“Who - who would build a machine like this?” Graham asked. 

“Timelords.” The Master spat. He never strayed from the Doctors side, even when he glared pointedly at all three of them. “Now, who wants to go?”

“Wait wait wait, we never agreed —“

“This is the only way we’ll ever save the Doctor.” The Master interrupted. She could almost find a hint of desperation in his voice, but she was probably just imaging it. 

“Why can’t you do it?” Graham asked. Ryan stayed oddly silent.

“Someone has to stay here and watch over them.”

“Is it dangerous?” She stopped Graham, who was about to fire back another insult. 

To her surprise, the Masters lips twitched a half-smile. “Its more dangerous for the Doctor if we don’t do it.”

She sighed in defeat. That wasn’t really an answer. Whatever, they had been through weirder. “I’ll go.”

“No!” Ryan exclaimed, making everyone turn to him. He looked sheepish. “I mean. I was gonna go.”

“There’s enough devices for all three of you to go.” The Master said. “If you want.”

She frowned, and glanced at the boys. She didn’t want to leave the Master alone with the Doctor, or with themselves when they weren’t in control of their bodies. Graham, however, seemed to have the same thought and stepped forward.

“I’ll stay. Watch over the Doc’.” He smiled at Yaz and Ryan, trying to ease their worries. She smiled back, but the Master just huffed.

“Fine.” He said. “Stay here. I’ll go get everything.”

She watched the Master leave the room, then turned to Ryan and Graham, who both looked nervous. “Are we really doing this?”

“Apparently so.” Ryan replied, staring off into space. Her gaze flickered to the Doctor, head wound nearly healed and eyes moving under their eyelids. They looked peaceful, and she realized with a start this was the first time she had seen them sleep since they escape from the Judoon prison.

_We’re coming, Doctor_.  She thought.  _Just wait a little bit longer._

The Master returned a few moments later, holding two metal claws like the one on the Doctors head. He instructed her and Ryan to lay down the empty beds as he begin to fiddle with the two devices. She took the one beside the Doctor, not able to pull her eyes away from her friend, and Ryan the one beside her.

She was broken from her stupor when the Master walked over to her, blocking her line of sight of the Doctor, and flinched when, without warning, he placed the hat (the only way she could think to describe it then than ‘claw’) on her head. It was cold, and as he attached the small arms to her forehead and scalp, she couldn’t help but shiver.

As the Master moved to put on Ryans, she noticed Graham watching them nervously,biting his lip. She cocked her head at him, about to ask him if he was okay, but then the Master moved away from Ryan and Graham quickly took his place in between the two beds.

“You ... you two be careful, okay?” The older man said softly. “Get them out safely. Get yourselves out safely. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” Ryan replied. 

“We’ll try.” She said. Graham smiled again.

It was going to be hard for him, by himself with just the Master (who she didn’t think would be the best company), worrying about the three of them. However, before she could try and soothe his worries, the Master interjected. 

“Try and clear your thoughts.” He was holding a box-looking object the seemed to be made of the same metal as the hats. Like Graham, he looked worried, but she doubted it was for her and Ryan. “You might have to look for them, but find them.” His voice became deadly when he spoke. “ _Find the Doctor_. ”

Before she could snap back, there was a small shock through her brain, and she felt herself falling back, black peeking in the corner of her eyes, thoughts turning fuzzy.

Her eyes were closed before she even laid down.


	2. the middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dies quia longiores factae sunt ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway so I was rereading one of my favourite DW fics, and realized there were a few very similarity between that fic and mine. I just want to stay those weren’t meant to happen! 
> 
> I had the middle part (this part) of the fic planned out since before Christmas but only started writing it after Series 12 ended.
> 
> anyway, uh, onto the fic!! it’s super long jfc

Yaz woke up to darkness.

For a split second, she thought her eyes were still closed because she was shrouded in a pitch black. However, slowly, her eyes began to adjust along with the rest of her body.

She was laying on the ground. When she focused on herself, she found she was wearing her regular leather jacket, a grey high-collared jumper, jeans and her trainers. Her hair was pinned into two buns with the rest hanging down her back, and —  ow . She winced as a pounding headache exploded in her temples, momentarily blinding her.

Now that she had adjusted, she realized it wasn’t that dark in the room. She had just been staring up at the ceiling. It had to be a least ten metres tall. Floor to ceiling shelves lined the walls, all filled with multi-coloured glass balls. There were a few gaps with small windows, but the curtains were drawn.

Steadily, Yaz sat up. She gingerly touched her forehead, and realized her fingers were freezing cold. It felt nice against her throbbing head. She sighed, the noise echoing throughout the room, but she stiffened when she heard shuffling beside her.

She whipped around, and saw a boy laying on the ground beside her. He looked around her age, with close-cropped hair and dark skin. He wore a dark blue jacket over a light blue shirt lined in white, and beige pants. He looked familiar, did she know him? She blinked as she thought about it.

“Ryan.” She muttered. The boy sat up, groaning. He turned to her at the sound of her name.

“Yeah, who are ... ?” He trailed off, then his eyes lit up. “Yaz!”

She nodded, then pushed herself to her feet. She was a little wobbly, but otherwise steady. After a moment, she helped Ryan up as well. He took a second to gain his footing, but like her, he was okay. 

Now that they were both standing, she looked around at the room they were in. It wasn’t really a room at all, more like a hallway. She peered at one of the glass balls. It didn’t show her reflection, but she noticed a small ... speck of something in the middle. It looked kinda like a spark, and it began to swirl, forming the shape of a person.

Footsteps sounded throughout the corridor. She, and Ryan, whirled around to see someone coming towards them. She narrowed her eyes as the figure came forth from the shadows. Distantly, she wondered where the light source was that was causing the shadows in the first place.

It was an old man, wearing a black coat over a vest. A white collar poked over, fastened by silky ribbon tied in a bow. He had grey wavy hair and icy blue eyes that reminded her of the snow. He stopped in front of them, the room suddenly quiet without his footfall, and grabbed his lapels, smiling.

“Hello. You just be the companions.” The old man said. “Welcome.”

“Hi ...” She said. “Uh, I’m Yaz.” She gestured to Ryan. “And this Ryan. Where are we?”

“I know who you are, my dear.” The old man stated. He looked like he should belong in some cheesy 1960s show, not wandering this weird area. When she reflected on it, there was something ... off about this place. She couldn’t name what was bothering her, could only feel the ping of it in the back of her mind, a part of her brain screaming ‘ something is wrong .’

She was about to ask where they were again when the old man grabbed a ball from the shelf. It was the one she had been looking at earlier. The spark had now burst like a supernova into flashes of colour and people. She heard Ryan shuffle uncomfortably beside her.

“What’s your name?” Ryan asked.

“Names are important, my boy. Never ask someone for their name, only what they are called.” The old man said, not looking up from the glass ball. The curtains were billowing, but Yaz couldn’t see outside.

“Okay ... what are you called, then?” Ryan restated.

“I am called One, or the First.” The old man said. He put the ball back on the shelf. “And I am the keeper of memories.”

“That’s nice.” Ryan replied. “So are these little ball things memories, then?”

When Ryan reached out to touch the one closet to him, however, One glared at him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. They’re very protective of the things.”

“Who?” Yaz asked. “Who’s protective of them?”

“You should know, you’re looking for them.” One said. Slowly, he picked up the ball Ryan had went to touch and inspected it thoroughly. 

A face, pale and fleeting, passed through her mind. Yes, they were looking for someone. She just couldn’t remember who.

“Oh? We are?” Ryan turned her. “Do you remember?”

“No, I don’t.” She said, a sinking feeling in her gut.

One nodded, as if he had expected this. He dropped the ball into his pocket. “Yes, quite right. Follow me.”

Suddenly, One turned and began walking through the tall shelves. Yaz and Ryan shared a look, but hurried after him. They didn’t want to be stuck here all by themselves.

As they delved deeper into the library of memories, Yaz couldn’t help but look around. The balls were in various colours — ranging from white to blue to red to black — and there were so many of them it took her breath away. Whoever was protective of these memories must have lived for a long, long while.

When they turned a corner, Yaz noticed there was a fork road. One path went down into more multi-coloured balls, but the other went down into shelves of balls all the same colour — a startling, deep, red mixed with spots of white. They took the other path, and Yaz watched the snow blood balls disappear from view.

“Excuse me, One?” She spoke up. He stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder at her.

“Yes, my dear?” He answered. 

“What was going on with the red and white memories? The other path, where they were all the same colour?” She asked.

One shook his head, mumbling. “Those are from a dark time, surrounded by diamonds.”

“Diamonds?” Ryan muttered. “What’a mean?”

“Has anyone told you you ask a lot of questions?” One said. Not exactly snappy, but exasperated. 

They continued down the hall in silence. If Yaz focused hard on the balls, she thought she could see faces hidden in the reflections.

They turned another corner, and at the end of this hallway Yaz noticed a large wooden door. It had elegant carvings and shiny golden nobs. They came to a stop in front of it, and she saw more then heard One take a deep breath.

Rising up, the old man turned. His eyes were burning, but his face spoke kindness. Something curled around his back, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She didn’t know what One was, but she didn’t want to find out.

“Take this.” One dug into his pocket, the one he put the ball into, and pulled out a card. He extended toward Yaz, who took it. It was shockingly cold, as if it had been in the arctic. “You will need it.”

“Why?” Ryan questioned. One titled his head.

“If you want to find who you’re looking for, you’ll need to meet the others, first.” The First stated. “Remember to ask questions. Questions are good, but only the right ones.”

“What is that suppose to mean?” Ryan asked defensively. However, the old man had already bumbled off around the shelf. 

They were smart enough not to follow him.

Tearing her eyes away from the darkness he had disappeared into, Yaz looked down at the card. Staring back up at her was the face of the Hierophant. Yaz knew little of tarot cards — her sister had a pack, lying around somewhere, but Yaz never bothered to learn how to read them.

“Tarot, huh?” Ryan said, leaning over her shoulder to stare at the card. “A bit ominous, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” She muttered. She slipped it into her coat pocket. “I’m assuming we should go through that door?”

She studied the carvings. She could see one looked oddly shaped spoon, and one a large cube. One looked like a head in a jar and another a hand. The biggest craving, however, was a large, rectangular box with a little light on top. She wondered who carved it.

“Count of three?” Ryan asked. She nodded, and they both put their hands on the handle. 

“One, two, three.” Yaz said. On three, they both turned the nob and pushed it open. 

When her eyes adjusted to the change of light, Yaz noticed the balls had been replaced with books. It was a large room, with shelves and shelves of musty old tomes. There were no windows she could see, but a clock hanging on the wall with a large eye painted on it. Its ticking was the only sound in the room.

There were tables scattered about, all covered with open books and loose pages. Yaz noticed one of the pages was the words ‘ demons run when a good man goes to war ’ scribbled in messy handwriting over and over again. She noticed a red velvet fez discarded on the ground.

“Do you need help?” A young voice called out from around the shelves.

They both jumped, startled from the almost-soundless room. Yaz whipped around to see a man — boy? He looked quite young — peering out around one of the shelves. He had mussed his hair and a tweed jacket that made him resemble some sort of professor or therapist, and a milky grey shirt accented by silly red bowtie. Odd fashion choice , she thought.

His eyes, Yaz noticed, were a dark, vibrant green. They were old. Too old. 

“Yes, we ... “ Ryan trailed off. “We’re looking for someone.” 

“Oh, do you know who?” The bowtie man asked, skipping over to them. He bounced on his toes. “I might be able to help. I’m good at finding things.”

“No, we don’t.” Ryan said, looking at his shoes. The bowtie man scoffed.

“How do you expect to find them, then?” He said. He twittered away, then, scanning the shelves with intensity. He picked up a book, flipped through it, then put it back.

“We don’t know.” Ryan replied. Yaz stepped forward.

“What are you called?” She asked, remembering what the old man had told them. The bowtie man cocked his head at them.

“I am called Eleven, or the Eleventh.” He said, slim fingers dancing through the books. “I make sure the stories are in order.”

He picked a book from the shelf — Yaz couldn’t see the name, but the cover had a picture of a red head girl — and flipped through it, before skipping to the end and tearing out the last few pages. 

Noticing them watching him, Eleven showed them the book. “I don’t like endings. We still don’t. That’s why they’re hiding.”

Yaz didn’t mention how there wasn’t any story written down, just the sentence ‘the only water in the forest in the river’ repeated over and over again like the page. Ryan, however, wasn’t looking at the book, instead narrowing his eyes at Eleven. “Who’s hiding?”

“Oh! I shouldn’t have said anything.” He slammed the book close and tossed it to the side. “No one is hiding!”

In an almost manic way, the bowtie man grabbed the collar of Ryan’s jacket and pulled their faces together, so close their noses brushed. “But between us, they’re definitely  avoiding something. I wonder what it is?”

Eleven kept holding Ryan, eyes darting around his face. He let go, suddenly, and Yaz watched Ryan stumble backwards, unbalanced. Eleven then turned to her, green eyes inspecting every inch of her body. She stood still and let him, unsure of why. After a few moments of silence, his face broke out into a grin

“You are worthy. Keep track of your story, be mindful of the ending.” Eleven said. He took Yazs hand and placed a card in it. His grin fell. Old eyes framed by a young face. “Watch the sky, that’s where we fall from.”

He patted her hand, almost reassuringly, before dashing off again. She watched him go, then turned to the card in her hand. The Sun watched her, eyes bearing into her like rays. She slipped it into her pocket, right beside the first card.

The clock kept ticking. It was stuck at the eleventh hour.

“We should go.” She said. Ryan nodded.

“Agreed.” Ryan replied. “But  where can we go?”

“Let’s ... “ She trailed off, looking around. “Let’s just walk.”

So they did. They choose a random direction and pattered on.

As they traveled, Yaz noticed the floor of the room seemed like a large metal grate, rough and full of holes. The books, like the memories, ranged in size and colour. Beside her, Ryan stopped to pull one from the shelf. It was a small, with frayed edges and a leather binding. The cover seemed handrawn, a picture of golden scribbles.

“You shouldn’t open that.” She warned. She didn’t know why.

Ryan nodded, and put it back. They went on.

As they reached another turn, however, Yaz heard a voice up ahead. She glanced at Ryan, who had perked up as well, and they crept forward. Slowly, they peered around the corner to see two figures playing chess.

One was short, wearing a brown jacket and cream jumper and silly hat. An umbrella leaned against the table, it’s end a question mark. It seemed to mock them.

The other was tall, face covered by a wispy hood. Bony fingers moved the pieces.

“You can come out.” The shorter figure said. “You’re not very good at hiding.”

They came forward, uncertain. The shorter figure looked human, but there seemed to be something shifting under his skin. Yaz, however, had the feeling he wouldn’t hurt them. She shuffled closer to Ryan still, though.

The room was absent of books, but it did have windows. Lots of windows, all covered with sheets and boards. It looked like a horror movie, and she couldn’t see outside. She wondered if there was a reason for that.

She turned back to the table. The chess pieces, she noticed with alarm, weren’t actual board pieces. They resembled humans. The King was a short teenage girl with dark hair, and the Queen was blonde girl with a pink rose tucked behind her ear.

The other pieces. A woman in a red jacket and messy dark hair. A teenager with bushy orange hair. A boy with black hair and a yellow vest. A redhead in a long brown jacket. A woman with large curly blonde hair. A black-haired boy in a kilt. A girl with dark hair dressed in blue.

“Who’s winning?” Ryan asked. She glared at him. Could he not tell there was two monsters at the table?

“It would appear to be my opponent, here.” The shorter figure said. They all watched as the hood figure swiped one of the pawns — a man with close-cropped ginger hair in shorts — and the shorter figure sighed.

“Figures.” He muttered. He turned to them again. “Have you met the others yet?”

“A ... few.” Ryan replied. Yaz watched the interaction. The hooded figure waited patiently.

“Hmm. I am Seven, or the Seventh.” The shorter figure said. He moved one of his pieces. “I play chess.”

“Fun.” Yaz mumbled. She never got the point of chess. It was boring and didn’t make sense. 

Ryan, however, took a few steps closer to the board. He pointed at one of the pieces. “Your pawn is gonna die.”

“Sometimes you need to sacrifice a few things for the endgame.” Seven stated calmly. The hooded figure, ever silent, took another victim. This one was dressed in a fluffy coat with short blonde hair.

“You’re in the endgame, now.” Ryan said. “And now one of your knights are in danger.”

“Thank you for pointing it out.” Seven said, words boarding on hurtful. Ryan didn’t seem perplexed, though, and kept pointing things out on the board.

“If you move your rook here, you’ll save your knight. Then, you can use your knight to take out your opponents bishop, leaving a clear view of its king.” Ryan shrugged. “Granted, your opponent doesn’t move. But I think they’ll be to distracted with your other pawns over here.”

Seven blinked in shock down at the board, then smiled. His teeth seemed sharp. The hooded figure stayed quiet as Seven did as Ryan instructed. Gingerly, the shorter figure brushed his fingers over the knight he had saved. A teen in a bomber jacket.

“Thank you. I quite like this piece.” His voice was laced with something Yaz couldn’t identify. The seventh then tapped a card that had appeared on the table. Ryan took it, looked at it, then handed it to Yaz. The eyes of the Hanged Man watched her carefully put it into her pocket.

Ryan joined her at her side. Together, they turned around. The library had disappeared, replaced by another door. This one was simple, tall and slender and painted white. When she glanced behind her, but the two figures had left. 

“Where did you become so good at chess?” She asked.

“Me and my nan’ use to play it.” He shrugged. She turned back to the door.

“Ready?”

As they did before, they both put their hand on the nob. On the count of three, they pushed. It didn’t open at first, but with another hard shove, it swung open easily.

Yaz had expected a room, maybe another library, but she did not — couldn’t ever — expect what she saw.

They were outside — but it didn’t look like anything she had ever seen before. The sky was a bright orange but clouded in grey ... something, either clouds or smoke, and the ground dusty and barren. They had ended up in a garden, with a tall, barbed, metal fence surrounding it, but all the flowers and grass and vines were dead.

The air seemed heavy, as if filled with smoke, which it probably was. She resisted the urge to cough, and blinked away tears as she glanced at Ryan. He seemed to be affected the same way she was.

“What’s going on out here?” He asked, voice thin.

“I don’t know.” She said. “It’s like we’re breathing in smoke.”

“That would make sense.” Another voice added. The two whipped around to see the building had disappeared, replaced with a fair-haired man in a cream coloured coat. He had soft blue eyes and a round face, but a piece a purple celery was pinned to his lapel. He sat on the ground, brushing his hand through a pile of dead flowers. “Things have been bad here since the Fire.”

Yaz blinked. Her lungs seemed to be adjusting, now. “What Fire?”

The fair-haired man waved his hand, gesturing vaguely around him. “The Fire born from the War. This use to be a nice place before it. Well, not nice. It use to be  better here, at least. Less smoke. I use to have a garden.”

“Who — what are you called?” Ryan spoke up, containing his coughs.

“I am Five, or the Fifth.” He said. “I had a garden.”

Yaz watched in awe as the fair-haired man pluck a dead flower from the bundle. It grew in his hand, becoming a bright blue and star-shaped and alive. He realized her staring, and smiled. It was sad. “Its a blue star creeper. Known for its, well, star like appearance.”

Yaz gasped when he tightened his fist around the flower. He was going to destroy the only life left in this garden! But, when the Five opened his fist, instead of a flower sat a pin in the shape of a star. It was crumpled, and broken, and it held great value though she didn’t know why.

“What’s that?” Ryan asked. He knew what it was, it was a star pin. But she knew that wasn’t really what he was asking.

“Something important.” Five nodded, as if reaffirming his answer. “Something very important. There are lots of important things here.”

“Like what?” Yaz asked.

“You ask many questions. That’s a good thing, sometimes. Sometimes it isn’t.” He looked at them. “Yes, a very good thing. There are many important things here.”

Silence lapped in between, uncomfortable. Yaz could hear the wind whistling far off, sounding like the distant whispers of ghosts. Maybe they were ghosts. She clasped her hands behind her back, respectful.

“I’m sorry about your garden.” She offered to the sad fair-haired man. “It must have been nice.”

“Oh, very nice.“ He blinked a couple of times, regaining his thoughts. “How old are you two?”

“Oh, we’re uh.” Ryan stammered. “Nineteen. Both of us.”

Five nodded. He then sighed, and looked around the decayed garden, before extending his hand, still gripped around the pin, to them.

The star disappeared when he opened his fingers, replaced with another, upside down card. Yaz grabbed it, then flipped it over to see the Star staring up at her sadly. When she looked up, the Fifth was watching them with heavy eyes.

“You are children. Don’t forget that.” He said. He offered then a small smile. Yaz took it and smiled back.

She looked back down at the card, and Ryan peered over her shoulder to study it too. When she glanced back up again, however, she sucked in a breath when she saw both Five and the garden were gone, replaced was a barren landscape of wild, burnt grass and sand and  nothing .

“Woah, okay.” Ryan mumbled as she slipped the card into her pocket.

She looked out into the area. There was a ring of mountains were surrounding them, and off in the distant she saw the distant ruins of a forgotten city. Besides that, the sky was marmalade stained with smoke, and the land dark red char.

“Where do we go now?” Ryan said.

“Well,” she patted her pocket. “I’m guessing we need to find the rest of theses cards, meet the ‘others’, and find whoever we’re looking for.”

“Does it bother you that we’re here? Meeting creepy people, in a place that looks like hell, to find someone we can’t even remember?” He said bitterly.

A face flashed across her mind, pale and fleeting. “Yes. A lot. But whoever we’re looking for — they must be important.”

Ryan didn’t say anything. Together, the two began walking towards the broken city.

Yaz noticed the way her feet kicked up dust, and the way the wind whistled through the landscape. When she looked up too quickly, her vision became foggy, and in the corner of her eye she sometimes saw the silver leaves of trees despite the entire area being absent of plants.

She glanced at Ryan. He was staring straight ahead, eyes trained on the horizon. Yaz tapped her pocket again, feeling the outline of the cards in it. However, she looked back up when she noticed another figure coming towards them, from the direction of the city.

“Do you ... ?” Ryan trailed off as the figure got closer. 

Yaz took in its — his, she assumed, but she had a feeling the people they were meeting here weren’t really men — features. Pale skin, close-cropped hair and large ears. He wore a leather jacket and a dark purple shirt that reminded her of the night sky. His eyes were stormy and mouth a thin line as if he just walked out of a battlefield. Knowing this place, he probably had.

“Hello.” Ryan greeted to the stormy man when he was within earshot.

“Hello.” The man replied. His voice was rough. “What’a are you doing here?”

“We’re on our way to that city.” Yaz pointed at it, far off on the horizon. The stormy man glanced back, then focused his gaze in front of him again. “We’re looking for someone.”

“No reason to look there.” He said, eyes glazing over, deep in thought. “You won’t find much at all.”

“Oh. Well, it’s better then walking around in,” Ryan answered this time, gesturing back the way they came. “this.”

The stormy man nodded, understanding. ”It would be.”

“What are you called?” Yaz asked, changing the topic.

“I am called Nine, or the Ninth.” The stormy man glanced up at the sky, as if he was expecting to find something, but it was blocked by the smoke. “I wander.”

“Have you found anything cool?” Ryan asked, making small talk.

Nine snorted. “Well, no. But our definitions of cool might be different.”

“What’s that city over there?” Yaz asked. “What’s it called?”

“It has many names, but only one that is true.” Nine said, not particularly looking at anything. “Ka Faraq Gatri.”

Destroyer of Worlds.

She held back a small gasp. She had no idea how she knew what it meant — it wasn’t even in a language she had ever heard before — but the wave of dread, of  fear , that swept over her when Nine said those words wasn’t anything she think she could imagine.

Ryan gasped loudly beside her, his head translating just as hers had.

“You shouldn’t go there.” Nine said, seeing how affected they were.

“We need too.” Yaz replied. She wasn’t sure why.

“I know.” Nine answered, reluctant. 

All of the sudden, he handed her a card, and she took it just like all the other ones. It was the Chariot, balanced delicately in her hand. The stormy man gave them both a grim smile. “I hope you find who you’re looking for.”

“We hope so too.” Ryan mumbled. The ninth nodded, then continued walking. Niether of them tried to stop him, or even watch him disappear over the horizon that seemed a lot closer then it appear. They just hurried on towards the broken city, feet kicking up dust.

The city grew as they approached, and Yaz hadn’t realized it was so close. She could smell the acrid fumes billowing from destroyed homes, and the air felt heavy like it did when they had first stepped out into this weird plane of existence. This close, she could see first outer houses in clear detail.

Overwhelmed, she stumbled to a stop, taking in the ruins. Ryan glanced at her. “You okay?”

She didn’t think she was, but answered “Yeah.” anyway, then kept walking.

The red dust turned to cobblestone, old and worn. Piles and piles of rubble and stone were stacked around them, and out of the corner of her eyes she thought she saw the small hand of a child, buried beneath the rock.

As they got deeper in, parts of the houses still stood, though partly collapsed and still smoking. On the half-crumbled walls, she could see words gratified in black paint. Most were just a jumble of words and circles, but she could make out specific phases.

I don’t want to go. Mad man. Good man. Run Fast. Live good life. 

Not drawn in paint, scratched deep into the surface and charred around the edges,  No More. 

The pathway winded through the town, all heading towards the centre where she assumed a large castle should be. Expect, the only thing that sat there was a small, blue tent. In the landscape of reds and greys, the blue stood out. It looked barley large enough to fit her and Ryan both, but when Ryan marched over and tugged the curtain open, it was huge. 

Inside, the box expanded in a room with wooden panelling lining the walls and floor. In the centre, a man with wavy hair sat behind a small table, draped in a green cloth. He was shuffling cards, but when they entered, he looked up and smiled.

“Hello.” He greeted. “What brings you here today?”

“We ... “ She trailed off. “We’re looking for someone.”

“Hmm.” The wavy-haired man nodded. “Yes, I thought you would say that. Come, sit.”

Two chairs appeared on the other end of the table. With a worried glance at Ryan, they both sat down. The squeak of the chairs on the wooden floor filled the entire tent. Once seated, she clasped her hands in her lap, respectful, and stared at the man. “What are you called?”

“I am called Eight, or the Eighth.” He stopped shuffling to look them in the eyes. She didn’t look away, even though she wanted to, as he studied her. “I keep track of the cards.”

Her hand drifted to her pocket. Eight noticed, and blinked at her. “How many have you met?”

“Uh ... “ She thought for a second. “Only five. How many of you are there?”

“They have no idea.” Eight replied. He stared off into space, but his voice was clear and truthful. “The Storm wiped away a lot of the memories. That’s why he have a memory keeper, and a story tracker, and me, and the others.”

Every new piece of information she learned about this place made her want to find their person quicker. “We need to find someone. Do you know where they are?”

“Yes.” Eight said. “But do you know?”

She shook her head. Beside her, Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but Eight lifted a hand to stop him. “It’s hard to get where you need to go. You’ll need to go through the desert, find a barn. The one there will tell you where to go next.”

Yaz didn’t know if she wanted to face the desert again, but she realized it would be better than here.

“Why are you helping us?” Ryan asked, voice low. “Everyone else is being cryptic.”

Eight smiled. ”Once, I couldn’t remember my own name. They turn to me to guidance.” 

He shuffled cards in his hands one last time, studied them, then drew one from the deck and handed it over. The Magician. It was warm, almost uncomfortably, in her hand, so she quickly slipped it into her pocket.

Sensing the conversation was over, she stood up. Ryan followed after a moment, still staring at Eight. The chairs squeaked against the ground. The wavy-haired man looked up from his cards and smiled. Unlike all the other smiles they had been given in their time here, this one seemed the most genuine.

“Don’t make deals with the storm, you’ll only get hurt.” The Eighth warned, smile slipping from his face. They didn’t say anything, her feet taking her out of the tent before her mind could catch up.

Once outside, she took a gulp of air. It tasted like dust, but it was better then the suffocation she felt in the tent. Ryan shuddered beside her, and she knew it wasn’t from the weather. It was burning outside, but after meeting Eight, she felt like someone had dunked her in cold water.

“We should - we should go.” Ryan told her. She nodded.

“Come on.”

They started walking, once again, through the broken city. Despite all the exercise they were getting, her feet didn’t hurt and she wasn’t even sweating. She might have been too alert to feel tiredness, though.

“A barn.” She muttered as they reached the end of the city. It seemed to have taken a shorter amount of time to leave the city then to enter it, which she was grateful for. “We need to find a barn.”

“This place is weird.” Ryan said. She chuckled.

“We’re way past that, Ryan.” She replied.

“Yeah, well.” Ryan pointed out across the desert. She followed his finger to a large figure on the horizon. At first, she thought it was a pile of rocks, but she squinted as they drew closer. It was a building. “I think we found it.”

In this place, apparently everything seemed far away but wasn’t, as they reached the barn within a few minutes. At least, she thought it was a few minutes. Time seemed warped here, she couldn’t tell if a minute passed or an hour. It made a shiver crawl up her spine, cementing how  _wrong_ this  place was.

She stopped in front of the doorway. It was broken, barley hanging on its hinges. For some reason, she felt like she was intruding on someones private area. This barn felt sacred, even ceremonial. However, she took it in again, all weathered wood and splinters, and the feeling disappeared.

Luckily, Ryan didn’t seem fazed and pushed the door open. It didn’t need much force, looking like it would fall of with a strong breeze.

Ryan stepped inside, and she followed. Then, nearly started coughing.

Unlike outside, the barn wasn’t contaminated with smoke — it was dust. It floated in the air, flakes settling in her hair and on her shoulders. She brushed it off and looked around. There was a ladder leading to loft which she didn’t want to try to climb, and old stale hay was scattered about.

There was quite a large pile of the stuff nestled in the corner, but it was shifting. She took a step forward, passing Ryan, and narrowed her eyes at it. There was no wind in here (unlike outside, where it kicked up dust and knocked her hair into her face), so there was no reason the hay should be moving, unless someone was moving in it.

She jumped back, nearly crashing in Ryan when a head appeared from behind the pile. It was an old man, with greying hair and scurfy beard. Noticing them, he stepped out from behind the pile, brushing the straw off his leather jacket, and smiled, closed-lipped, at them. His eyes were older then he actually appeared, and weighed down by sorrow.

“Hello.” He greeted. “You’ve found me.”

“Uh, yeah.” She exchanged glances with Ryan. “Eight told us to find you.”

The greying man nodded. “Not many of the others wish to talk to me.”

She would asked why, but she knew she would probably regret the answer. The man intimated her with the amount of emotion and knowledge hidden in his eyes and behind his smile. He had seen many things, not all of them good.

Ryan, however, didn’t have an qualms about taking to him. “What are you called?”

“I am the warrior, though some just call me War.” The greying man replied. “I watch the sky.”

Yaz didn’t think he looked like a warrior. He looked old and frail and his coat swamped him. However, she had no doubts about what he said.

“What’s in the sky?” Ryan asked. “Why do you need to watch it?”

War glanced up at the ceiling. Through the boards, she could see the grey smoke rolling across a red sky. She suddenly realized with a fright that there was no sun here.

“I caused the smoke.” He said. “It was the only way. And that’s why they don’t talk to me.”

“Oh.” Ryan said. She nodded at War.

“I’m sorry.” She offered, just like she had to the sad fair-haired man in the garden. War tilted his head at her, smiling softly.

“We all have our roles. I just so happen to be stuck with this one.” He asked. His eyes glittered. “Do you know what you are here?”

“No.” Ryan said. 

She didn’t like the way War looked at them. He suddenly stuffed his hand into the pocket of his oversized leather coat and pulled out a card after a moment. It was Justice, the edges burnt and ripped. She accepted it after a heartbeat, not wanting to but knowing they needed it.

“What are we, then?” Yaz asked. She stared down at the card. Her voice was steady, but filled with doubt.

“You,” War said. “are very important here.”

The air in the barn became stuffy, and she gripped the card so hard her knuckles turned white. If War noticed, he didn’t comment.

“Head to the mountains.” The warrior instructed. “You’ll know what to do.”

Her legs kicked into gear and she grabbed Ryan’s wrist and started to drag him out, but after a second of just staring he stumbled after her into the desert once again. She gazed out across the red expanse, seeing nothing expect the snow-capped mountains standing unmovable and unopposed.

Beside her, Ryan took a deep breath, then chuckled. It was forced and hollow. “More walking.”

“More walking.” She agreed.

And off walking they went, two unstoppable forces.

Much like the city and barn, the mountains arrived quicker than she anticipated. She didn’t know much about mountains, the last time she had learned about them was high school geography, but when they stopped next to the mountain base they were close enough their toes brushed the rock.

Tentatively, Ryan reached out a brushed his hand against the rock. She did so too, and it was warm and rough under her fingertips. When she pulled her hand away, her fingers were covered in a fine red dust. 

She wiped them on her pants, and was surprised when those were the only stains on her clothes — none of the dust from the desert had found it way onto her. She looked just the same as she had when they first arrived. 

“Can you usually get this close to a mountains base?” She asked. Ryan opened his mouth to answer, still touching the rock, but instead another voice whistled across the sand.

“Not usually, no.”

Her and Ryan both turned to see a man leaning against the rock. He had shock-white hair that puffed around his face like a lions mane and wore velvet clothes that looked way to pristine to be in the red desert. He was staring off across the landscape, not particularly looking at anything, until he turned too them. “But nothings really usual here, is it?”

It was a rhetorical question. Neither of them answered.

“What are you called?” Ryan asked, removing his hand from the rock.

“I am Three, or the Third.” The lions mane man said. “I guard the tunnels.”

That’s when she noticed the tunnel entrance behind Three. She sighed, realizing that meant they would probably have to travel through them. She hated small spaces, and it looked like there wasn’t much light in there. 

“How long have you two been here?” Three asked, snapping her from her thoughts.

She thought about it, trying to make sense of this places wrapped time, but Ryan beat her to it. “We don’t ... we don’t know.”

Three nodded. “Understandable.”

She started to move forward, towards the lions mane man, hoping they could get the card and get on with it, when she suddenly felt very very tired. They should have taken a nap at the barn, in all the hay, and she stopped in her march.

She felt a pang of hunger in her stomach, her throat ached for water, her feet burned through her trainers. Sweat lingered on her neck and hairline and she felt itchy with dust.

With a choked gasp, she collapsed forward. The cards in her pocket felt very heavy, the sky was covered in smoke, there was no sun here —

“Yaz!” Ryan rushed to her side, but she heard him suck in a breath as well as the same thing happening to her happened to him, their bodies catching up with their minds. How long had they been here?

“Don’t give into the feeling.” Three said quickly. “It’s a defensive mechanism. Trying to stop you from getting to them.”

“Who? Who are we getting to?” She asked, trying to follow his advice.

He smiled, wistful but full of knowledge she didn’t know. “The one you’re looking for.”

A face passed in front of her mind, pale and fleeting. She forced down the feeling of her raw throat and empty stomach and burning eyes, but it was kinda like trying to swim upstream in a flowing river. 

Difficult, but not impossible. They were important, an unstoppable force, and they were looking for someone.

Three offered her his hand to try and steady herself, which she gladly took. However, between their palms was a thin sheet of plastic paper. Quickly, she snatched her hand back as if shocked, but not before she grabbed the card and stared at the Emperor.

“It’s warning sign, telling you you’re getting close.” Three supplied helpfully. Then, with a deadly tone, the Third added. “It means you don’t have much time left. Be quick.”

She nodded, swallowing down the bile rising in her throat, and passed him to face the tunnel mouth. Ryan joined her, mostly recovered, and they exchanged fearful glances. 

The tunnel was pitch black, no light escaping it. A monsters mouth with sharp teeth. She thought of all the creatures that could be lurking in the dark, all ready to pounce and grab her ankles, and shivered. She slipped the card into her pocket, the others waiting heavy, without taking her gaze off the void.

She wanted to ask Three for a light, but she could feel that his presence was gone. She sighed, and stepped in, Ryan following after a moment.

It was pitch black inside. She couldn’t see anything, there was no sun, only smoke —

Feeling her breathing quicken, she reached out into the dark and blindly grabbed Ryans hand. Surprisingly, the boy didn’t pull away, instead squeezing her hand and intwining their fingers. Feeling lighter with him by her side, they started walking.

There was no telling anything in the dark. She kept her free hand outstretched, keeping her hand on the wall, trying to map out the path. However, the tunnel twisted and turned and without being able to see, it was nearly impossible to tell where you were going.

And then, she saw light.

It was so quick, she thought she had just imagined it, then Ryan squeezed her hand and she saw it again, bobbing and getting closer. So it wasn’t an exit then, her heart fell, but if it was moving ... ?

The light was close enough. Now she could see it was fire, flickering and bright and wispy balanced on a wooden stave. Holding said torch was a man with curly, light hair wearing what was frankly the most ridiculous outfit she had ever seen. It was a clash of colours and patterns and even if the dim, it made her eyes heart just to look at it.

“What are you two doing here?” The colourful man asked, frowning at them.

“We’re trying to get to the other side.” She said. Despite the fact the darkness had been staved off, she didn’t let go of Ryan’s hand.

“Well, you will need a guide for that.”

The colourful man’s words hung in the air. She glanced at Ryan in the firelight, then back at the man. “Can you show us the way out?”

“Of course!” The colourful man grinned at them, however forced, and turned around and started walking down the tunnels again. Her and Ryan quickly rushed after him, she didn’t want to be stuck in the darkness after seeing the light.

They started once again down the winding tunnels. Yaz was content to stay quiet, not liking the way her voice sounded in the twisting paths, but Ryan spoke up, making the colourful man turn to them.

“What are you called?” Ryan asked. His hand never wavered in hers.

“I am Six, or the Sixth.” The colourful man stated. “I’m the tunnel guide.”

Ryan nodded. In the firelight, the features of his young face seemed darker, and she knew it mirrored her own. 

They followed Six through tunnels. However, her mind continued to race. Just outside the light of the torch, she wondered lurked. Occasionally, she heard something, a whisper of a musical language, but brushed it off.

“Hey, Six?” She asked. 

“Hmm, yes?”

“Does anyone live here? In these tunnels?”

The man was silent, for so long she thought he wasn’t gonna answer, then he sucked in a breath. “No one lives here. You can’t.”

She didn’t ask anything else.

Occasionally she thought she saw a flicker of something, more lost wanders, maybe an eye of a monster or wolf. She would shiver and look away, steeling her nerves, and focus on the feeling of her and Ryans conjoined hands. She was glad he was here with her, she didn’t think she could face this place alone.

“We’re getting close.” Six said, pulling her from her thoughts.

The smell of salt filled her nose. Distantly, she could hear the crashing of waves.

After a few more minutes (seconds? hours?) of walking, they ended up at the exit of the tunnels. She breathed a sigh of relief, but startled when she felt grains of something under her feet. A quick glance down revealed ... sand, sand with glorious light illuminating it, not a torch. 

“Be careful, watch the sky, and don’t make deals with the storm.” Six said, ominous, making her look back at him. “I’m sure the others have warned you already, but it’s good to repeat things. Then you’ll remember them.”

The Sixth extended his hand. Use to this, Yaz took the card waiting for her. It was the Moon, hanging in the fallen sky, a watchful eye unblinking. 

She didn’t hear any receding footsteps, but he was undoubtedly already walking back through the tunnels, wandering aimlessly. Slipping the card into her pocket, she looked up at their surroundings. 

It was a beach, with sand having spilled into the mouth of the cave. The waves crashed against the shore. The water was a dark, navy blue, and covered in sea foam, but free of any garbage or pollution. Even the sand seemed cleaner, dark and wet and soft. However, farther down the way she could see a boathouse made of plain wood.

She took a deep breath, but the salt burned her throat almost as bad as the smoke so she went back to small, shallow breaths. Slowly, she let go of Ryan’s hand and stepped closer, letting the sand turn to mush under her shoes.

The lone note of a recorder caught her attention.

She looked down the beach towards the boathouse. There was a man sitting in a rocking chair on the deck facing the rest of the beach, swaying gently in the wind while playing a pale beige recorder. The notes were shrill and hollow and empty, and she frowned.

Slowly, her and Ryan padded over, their feet kicking up sand and pebbles that had washed ashore. The entire beach was covered in a filter of grey — the sand, the water, the sky. Even the man in the rocking chair seemed to live in diluted tones, the only bright colour was the dark blue polka-dotted fastened around his collar, which made her think back all the way to story keeper.

At their approach, the man stopped his music (if you could call it that. At least it was better than her year five class) and smiled at them, closed-lipped with twinkling eyes.

“Hello.” He greeted, continuing to rock.

“Hello.” She replied, feeling a little awkward. “What are you called?”

“I am Two, or the Second.” The diluted man stated. “I play music.”

They nodded. She realized they were still standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the boathouse deck, so she started to climb up towards where Two rocked. Ryan followed almost immediately when Two spoke up again.

“Would you like to hear some?”

She got to the top of the stairs and leaned against the railing. She didn’t really want too, but Ryan joined her at her side before she could answer. “Sure.”

Two did a close-lipped smile again, and brought the recorder up to his mouth. Surprisingly, it sounded ... better. Not nice, it still sounded hollow and sad and haunted her brain and her ears, but it made a weird sense of longing build up in her chest.

The music began to trail off, song coming to an end, and she just stared at Two for a long time as the last note faded. He continued to rock, oblivious to the ocean pounding at the seashore, and she suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Glancing up at the sky and rubbing her neck, she saw storm clouds brewing. Both Ryan and Two followed her gaze, grimacing.

“I would give you a full show, but I think it’s best you’d be going.” Two said softly, making her turn back to him. She pushed herself off the railing, noticing how her jacket was free of sand despite the railing being covered, as Two went shuffling around in his pocket.

She accepted the card, only studying Hermit for a few seconds before placing it in her pocket with the rest. She could tell they were getting closer to finishing the entire collection, because the empty spaces in between where she was missing a card felt a thousand times more heavy.

Two didn’t look like he was going to say anything more, so she quickly padded by his chair to the door leading inside. After jiggling the handle, the door creaked open. Ryan rushed over and peaked through the crack, but like her he couldn’t see inside yet.

Just as they were about to step inside the boathouse, Twos voice sounded behind them.

“Yaz? Ryan?”

She turned, startled and uneasy — they hadn’t given him their names — but didn’t have time to think about it because Two smiled at them, fully. He rolled the recorder around in his hands. “Be careful.”

She didn’t like that warning, but didn’t comment.

Turning back around, she opened the door the rest of the way as the creaking of the rocking chair came to an abrupt stop. It sent a shiver down her spine, only hearing the crashing waves, but Ryan nudged her with his shoulder and sent her into motion again.

She stepped into the boathouse, and the smell of must and rot assaulted her nose. Face squeezing up in disgust, she took in the state of the boat house. On the outside, it and looked clean and strong. Inside, the wood was blackened and curled. There were multiple holes in the floor where the wood had rotten, and she could see mold creeping up in the corner.

“What happened here?” Ryan wondered. She shook her head, unsure, and that’s when she realized the furniture.

There wasn’t any chairs, or even a bed, but there was work tables and benches everywhere. Most, like the rest of the room, were old and looked a few heavy steps away from collapsing. There were various mechanical devices scattered across. She saw multiple different versions of what looked like high-tech screwdriver, and even saw yellowed and damp paper pinned to the wall, with printing too blurred and tiny to understand.

Tentatively, she moved across the room towards the door on the far wall. She was worried if she moved to fast, the floor would crumble and she would go plummeting into the water below, never to be seen again. There were no windows here, she realized.

She reached the other door with no trouble, but whipped around when Ryan cried out in surprise. A piece of the board he had stepped cracked, and his foot had gone crashing through the floor. 

“Ryan!” Lunging forward, she grabbed onto his arm and pulled him forward before the wood could break more. She  couldn’t loose him.

Yaz dragged him towards the door as the wood around them began to crack and crumble. It was like a domino effect. Once the first board had broken, the rest had fallen. 

The boathouse was collapsing. Panic building in her chest, she felt a rush of adrenaline as she slammed the door open and basically dragged Ryan out onto the deck.

Outside, the sky was a lot darker than it had been when they entered the boathouse. The sky was ominous, and warning, and it looked like it would storm any minute. On solid ground, Ryan regained his footing, breathing heavily. However, they didn’t have much time to recover before there was a crash as the roof caved in and the deck started quaking, most likely next.

“What the hell is happening?!” Ryan exclaimed, grabbing her arm as they backed away.

“This place is not use too visitors! They do not what you here!” A voice cried behind them. They whipped around to see a figure standing in a boat, waving them over. “Come on! Hurry!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Both her and Ryan went sprinting across the deck towards the boat, feeling the boards shake beneath their feet. When she was close enough, she sprung forward, landing hard in the boat, making it shake. For a split second she thought it would tip over, then she was forced to roll out of the way as Ryan nearly crashed into her.

Free of being crushed, she sat up and gasped. The entire boathouse and deck had collapsed, dust flying into the air so thick she couldn’t see anything on the other side. She didn’t think that one building could cause so much debris, and she thought she should be able to see the beach. However, the thought slipped from her grasp when she noticed how shaken  she was.

Her heart beat widely in her ears, and she desperately tried to even her breath. Gingerly, she brushed the shoulder that had made impact with the boat, and found it wasn’t even sore. She took a shaky gasp and looked at the figure manning the boat, which had now left the harbour and was gently bobbing out into the open sea.

He was tall, in a long brown coat with a colourful scarf wrapped around his neck. One end pooled onto the the floor, and the other dripped over the side of the boat, dangling into the water. The man himself at brown curly hair and, when he noticed her staring at him, he turned and smile.

It was too big. All teeth and edges to sharp.

“What are you called?” She asked the curly haired man, once her body had calmed to a reasonable level. Ryan sat up beside her, groaning, so close their shoulders brushed.

“I am Four, or the Fourth.” He replied, not taking his gaze off the ocean. “I man the boat.”

Yaz followed his gaze out onto the sea. It stretched out for klicks and klicks, and took her breath away. However, fear replaced the awe when her eyes fell to the shore they had just left. It was merely a speck in the distance now, she was afraid if she blinked it would vanish.

However, she was forced to tear her gaze away when something wet and cold landed on her nose. She tilted her head up, seeing the storm clouds had finally started to pour. She wiped her face off, but it was no use, as the rain had started to fall freely now.

“Better strap in.” Four said, grinning broadly. She didn’t think he should be grinning. “It’s gonna be a rough one.”

Yaz had no idea how long they were in the boat. At one point, the storm got so bad they were forced to curl up on their knees as the sea made it its personal mission to knock them overboard. While Yaz had been shook so much she felt like puking, Four had seemed unaffected, calmly rowing the boat through the brute of the storm.

When the rain had become manageable to deal with, she sat up and leaned over the edge of the boat. She watched the inky water swirl as the boat churned it, a deep blue, almost black, that reminded her of the tunnels. It salt stung her nose and made her eyes water, but she didn’t even blink.

Yaz wondered what monsters lurked under the seaform, hidden beneath the waves. At some points, she thought she saw a smooth bony skull bob in the distance before being pulled back under, making her drag her gaze back towards the water nearer to her.

If she reached forward, she could touch it —

Ryan, who was sitting beside her, grabbed her wrist just before her fingers brushed the water the same time Four warned. “Don’t.”

She obeyed.

When they finally saw land again, she nearly laughed in relief. However, she waited patiently as they grew nearer. It was an island, and for a split second she was worried they had circled back around because the shore looked the exact same from where they had left. However, there was a large castle perched on the land, which made her shake the thought away.

The boat docked on the shore, and Ryan was immediately jumping out onto the sand. She went to follow, but turned to Four.

“Thank you for the ride.” She said when she stepped out of the boat. The Fourth only nodded, smiling, and handed her the card. It was the Fool, and when she slipped it into her pocket, she shivered as her fingers brushed the deck growing in her pocket.

They were in the homestretch. She could feel it in her chest, tugging her closer to whoever they were trying to find.

_We’re coming_.  She thought, as if she spread her mind far enough, her words would reach their mysterious person.  _ Just wait a little bit longer. _

The rain still pattered against her jacket, drummed in her ears, as she watched Four pull away. He had been the most silence one that they had met, but she felt a thousand words hidden behind his smile, all of them setting off warning bells in her head. With Ryan coming to stand beside her, she waited until the boat disappeared over the sunless horizon before turning to the castle.

The building was grey and tall with open windows and many pillars. It reminded her of the mountains they had transversed to get there. The stone was weathered and aged. This castle had been there awhile, and she wondered what they would find inside. 

“Come on.” She said to Ryan. He nodded and followed across the shore towards the big building.

The beach was small, framed by the castle and rolling dunes of wet grey sand, so they found entrance pretty quickly, hidden behind a large boulder. She could feel the chill as she stepped inside, Ryan following. 

The hallway, much like the outside, looked aged. Flickering torches were pinned to the walls and illuminated the entire corridor in faint light. They could go two ways, left or right, and she let Ryan choose. He choose right.

They walked, footsteps echoing in the castle, the only sound in the emptiness. The hallway ended with a spiral staircase, so they climbed. She dragged her hand against the wall letting the rough touch ground her.

The staircase ended with another long hallway, this one more towards the top of the castle, so there were large windows on one side, staring directly out into the sea. Pausing for a moment, she padded over to one and leaned out, staring off onto the horizon, letting the rain hit her face.

She squinted, however, as her vision went blurry. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and looked out again. Somehow, it was  more blurry, the water and shore merging into dull blobs. Was that a sign?

“Hey, ‘ello!”

They both whipped around so suddenly she was surprised their heads didn’t fall off. A spiky-haired man was poking his head around the corner, grinning sheepishly.

He stepped out, fully showing off. He wore a long tan coat and brown suit, and dirty white converse that squeaked against the floor. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s ... okay.” She said, removing herself from the window and coming to stand at Ryans side. 

“Did you find anything interesting out there?” He shoved his hands into the pocket of his overly long coat and bounced on his heels.

She didn’t really know how to answer that, but she tried to anyway. “Yes.”

He nodded. “I’ve been looking for awhile. Didn’t find anything.”

There was a pause in the conversation. She heard wind howl, which made no sense because they were inside. “What are you called?”

“I am Ten, or the Tenth.” The spiky-haired man said. “I guard the castle from the monsters.”

That made her freeze. “What monsters?”

Ten tilted his head at her. “Surely you’ve met them?”

She thought of what she sensed, and a chill went up her spine. She grabbed Ryan’s arm, fingers digging tight into his jacket. “We need to find someone.” 

Ten nodded again and moved forward. “Yes, and quickly too, I imagine.”

Ryan stiffened under her hand, and she shuffled backwards. Tens eyes twinkled. “Can you help us?” Unspoken, she asked.  _ Can you fight the monsters? _

“I’ll try.” He said.

Something howled. She didn’t think it was the wind. Claws scraping against rock, against wood, against glass, lurking in the dark. Tens eyes became frantic, and he lunged forward, coat trailing behind him like a cape.

“You need to run!” The Tenth said, grabbing her hand in a icy cold grip and placing a card in it. Then, she was stumbling as he pushed her away, fingers closing around the card before it fell from her grip. “Quickly!”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

They ran. Ran from monsters hiding in the dark and the skulls in the ocean and the words in the book. Run from the crashing sky and crumbling walls. Run from the barn and the garden and the chess board.

They ran down the hallway and turned a corner, then another, then another. She grabbed Ryan when they got to a fork road before he veered off into a different direction than her and then they ran. 

Their feet slapped against the ground but her shoes weren’t ruined, the rain flew in on the open windows but she didn’t feel it’s chill, she couldn’t hear her heartbeat. She didn’t have one.

They came to a stop as their current corridor ended. There was a door, as old and worn at the stone around them, carved with elegant designs and with glowing white windows.

The card in her hand was heavy. The Tower, how fitting, joined its predecessors in her pocket. They were close. The final challenge. The final judgment. A face, pale and fleeting, flashed in her mind.

_Hold on_.  She thought, pleading with a person she couldn’t even remember.  _ Please, hold on. Just a little bit longer. _

Just a little bit longer. Just a little bit —

The door swung open on its own, and they stepped inside.

It was an office, which wasn’t what she had expected. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books and glass balls and weird-looking screwdrivers and hay and cards with unknown faces. However, her eyes were pulled towards the man sitting behind the wooden desk in the middle of the room. He was watching them with burning eyes.

“Hello.” The man at the desk said. “I take it you’re here for me?”

She could sense something about this room. She looked for what is was, and then she realized it wasn’t the room, it was the man sitting at the desk. He had fluffy white hair, and was wearing blue velvet like the sea they had cross to get there, and there was something shifting under his skin.

She recalled the others they had met. The way their eyes moved, the way they spoke. They all had the same demon curling around their back, the same snarl hidden behind their smile. They were all monsters, the same monster who chased them through the castle. Everyone here was the monster.

Expect they were good. They were trying to be good.

She stepped forward, facing the current good monster head on. 

“What are you called?” She asked, hopefully for the last time.

“I am Twelve, or the Twelfth, though I have many names.” The good monster leaned back in his chair, resting his feet on the desk. He twiddled a pair of sunglasses between his fingers. “The Oncoming Storm is a more all encompassing one. I’m sure the others have told you about.”

_ Don’t make deals with the storm. _

Sometimes, the only options were bad ones. A face flashed across her mind, pale and fleeting. It was clouded in smoke and water.  Hold on.

“You’re not suppose to be here.” Twelve warned. 

“War ... War said we were important here.” She replied. “Was he lying?”

Twelve smirked. “We all lie here.”

“Who else has been lying?” Ryan said, hesitant.

“That’s rule number one.” Twelve leaned forward on his desk. His eyes twinkled, like a lone star in the void. “The Doctor Lies.”

“The Doctor? Doctor who?” Yaz asked. Twelve sat back again, calculating.

“Who knows?” Twelve said. He tapped the side of his nose. “That’s what I tried to figure out.” 

She shook her head. A voice echoed in her ears, light and laughing. “We’re looking for someone, but we can’t remember who.”

“I know who you’re looking for.” Twelve stated. “And you do, too. Deep down. Tell me, what number comes after twelve?”

“Thirteen.” Ryan replied. “Everyone knows that.”

“Really? I couldn’t have known.” Twelve stood up, very suddenly. She jumped back, startled. “There’s not many people here. You’ve met the tunnel guard and keeper of memories and the chess player. You’ve seen the stories and you’ve seen the sky. So tell me, who comes after Twelve?”

“The Thirteenth.” Yaz whispered. 

The good man grinned. It was too bright, too big, to be convincing. “That’s right. There’s not many of us here, but we’re growing.”

“Where is here? Where are we?” Ryan asked.

“You know. We  all know.” Twelve said. “We know where we are and we know who you’re looking for.”

The sky’s on fire. The chess pieces have fallen. The wood has rotted and the sun has disappeared.

_ Find the Doctor. _

She knows where she is, she knows who she’s looking for.

The good monster handed her a card. Yaz took it with shaky fingers, barley breathing. She looked down at the World, and it looked back up at her. She found Ryans hand, and held it tight.

“You better get going before the glass falls.” Twelve said. She nodded. She places the card into her pocket with the others, all cold and warm at the same time. When they turn around, the door was still there. She knew where it lead.

“They need you.” The Twelfth said. His voice was faint, like it was underwater. “We all need you.”

She didn’t need to check to know he was gone.

They walked, slowly, over to the door. Just like all the times before, they both placed their hands in the nob. On the count of three, they turned it and pushed.

There was a long, white hallway leading to a curtain at the end. Not looking back, they walked forward. The hallway had many windows, uncovered. Each showed a different scene. A blue and green planet. A swirling nebula. A laboratory. A flat in Powell Estate. A classroom.

They didn’t linger on them. They knew who they were looking for.

_ Find the Doctor. _

The two reached the doorway. The curtain was plain, a deep blue mixed with gold and white. She let Ryan draw it open, and her breath hitched in her throat.

The room behind the curtain was large and dim. In the middle, there was a console with a multiple gadgets and levers. It was flanked by orange pillars, which casted a nice glow around the room. The floor was a grate and the stairs were smooth. She had been here before.

There was a blonde woman sitting on the floor by the console. They had pale skin and jagged blonde hair and pale brown eyes. Beside them sat many children, all ranging in appearance and age. Yazs hand moved on its own, checking her pocket. Instead of a deck of cards, she pulled out only one.

“Excuse me?” Yaz stepped forward. The woman and the children looked up. 

“Who are you?!” The blonde cried. Yaz winced, and presented the card. The High Priestess.

The blonde took the card, staring up at her with wide eyes, then turned and studied it. Then, they looked up. “Yaz? Ryan?”

Everything came rushing back to her, full force. “Doctor?”

_Find the Doctor._

They found them. Finally, finally, they found them.

“It’s me! How’d you get here?” The Doctor stood up, mindlessly rubbing their thumb over the card before slipping it into their pocket. Yaz noticed them and the children were working on some mechanical device together.

“It took awhile.” Ryan breathed out a laugh. The Doctor smiled, but it was small. “Is this your mind?”

The Doctor nodded. They turned to stare at their shoes. “Yes. How did you get in here?”

“Well, you got knocked out, and you hadn’t woken up for a week. We were stuck on some planet — and the Master found us.” Yaz said. “He helped set the TARDIS up.”

“This means I have to leave soon, don’t I?” They asked. Yaz nodded.

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Ryan voiced. The Doctor shook their head. 

“I don’t want to go back. It’s safe here.” They muttered.

“Safe? Doctor, it looked like hell out there.” Yaz said. They shook their head, making their hair flop in front of their face.

“No, no, it’s safe. It’s safe, I promise. I come here when I need to heal — and. And I designed. My past selves protect me. If someone needs to find me, my old selves need to let them.” They explained. During this time, they had started pacing. It was weird, seeing the Doctor this way. So nervous, so frazzled. 

Their hair was a mess, and face tired. They looked ... young. They looked young.

“You have to come back. Graham is still out there with the Master.” Ryan said softly, hesitant.

“He won’t hurt anyone.” They said. “Not if I’m in danger.”

Yaz didn’t comment. Her gaze fell to the children, watching her with eyes well past their years. 

“Who are they?” She asked, gesturing to the group. The Doctor turned to blink at the kids. An expression she couldn’t place flashed across their face.

“It’s complicated.” They said. “The shortest answer is that they’re my youngest selves. I’ve only just remember them, so we’re ... meeting. Learning about eachother.” They sighed. “They’ll join the others soon.”

Yaz thought the outside world was no place for children, but if what the Doctor said was true, maybe the hellish landscape was the safest place for them to be.

She was snapped from her thoughts by the Doctor coming to a stop in front of a children. With a soft smile, the Doctor stopped at the first — tall, with black skin and short hair — and placed their fingers as his temple. Both beings closed their eyes, then suddenly the boy just ... popped out of existence.

Yaz gasped, and she heard Ryan suck in a breath beside her. The Doctor turned to stare at them, gesturing vaguely.

“It’s alright.” They said. Yaz, as always, trusted them.

One by one, the Doctor went to all the children — all with bodies too old, eyes too sad — and did whatever they had done to the first. They all were gone from the room in the blink of an eye. When the Doctor got to the last one, however, a girl with plaited hair in red robes, they hesitated, mouth twisting.

“Goodbye.” They muttered. Long fingers against her temple, and the girl disappeared.

Now all alone with the Timelord, Yaz stuffed her hands into her pockets. She glanced at Ryan, and they shared a confused look. Now that all the children were gone, it was time for them to head out as well. But how?

The Doctor must have sensed their confusion, because they turned to stare at them with heavy eyes. “It’s time to go now.”

Ryan nodded beside her. “Abou’ time. This place gives me the creeps.”

The Doctors mouth turned up into a half-smile. “Hey, don’t insult it. It’s very important.”

Yaz suppressed a shudder, but then the Doctor was walking over to them. The Timelord extended their hands, and Yaz took the one reaching towards her. Their hand was warm and callused, and after a moment, Ryan took the other one.

“We’ll be safe, right?” Yaz asked. The Doctor tightened their grip on her hand and nodded, no words spoken.

The Timelord closed their eyes, and squeezed their hands. Yaz, unsure if she should keep hers open or not, closed them as well when she realized she didn’t really want to see what would happen. There was an intake of breath, then a dropping feeling in her stomach, like she was on a roller coaster, and then —

There was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, all parallels to someone else’s story are purely coincidental. I had the outline of this part, where most of the similarity occur, since December.
> 
> anyway, I hope you all enjoyed!! last part will be up in one week, and if you notice any spelling/grammar errors please point them out!!
> 
> thanks for reading.


	3. the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> surgit. surgit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter. thank you all for sticking around.

Yaz came into awareness slowly.

Something was clamped around her head, cold and tight, and she winced when the feeling sent spikes through her brain. At least the surface she was laying on was soft, probably bed, and her head was propped up against a pillow.

Save for the pinpricks of metal resting around her head, she was warm. Uncomfortably so. A blanket was thrown over her but she was also wearing her jacket. Someone had taken her shoes off, though, which was nice of them, and undone her hair.

However, there was a sense of ... unease that shrouded her mind like a blanket. As she became more aware, it started to fade until she couldn’t feel it anymore. However, the fact that the feeling was there in the first place, was enough to make her worry. For now, she pushed those thoughts aside.

Her hand rested on the bed, frozen and unmoving. She twitched her fingers, trying to regain some of her bodies function. That’s when she sensed that she was not the only person in the room, because someone gasped quite loudly and there was the sound of a chair being shoved back and someone walking.

“Look, Yaz is waking up!”

Slowly, she blinked open her eyes.

The lights in the room were bright but not hurtful, which she was thankful for, as she was having trouble focusing on anything. There was a face, however, peering down at her worriedly. The tiny features were hard to make out, but the person looked familiar. Graham!

She tried to speak, but her throat was dry and raw. The older man noticed, though, and stepped out of her line of sight for a moment before returning. He held a water bottle in his hand, and helped propped her up against the wall. It was cold, but welcome against her heated back.

Now that her eyes were working again, she looked around the room. It seemed to be a hospital room, with white sheets and white pillows and white walls. There was various medical equipment scattered about, some looking Earthly and some not. On ether side of her, two more beds were full with sleeping people, but at her angle she couldn’t see their faces.

Graham sat at the edge of her bed and handed her the water bottle, frowning. “Here, drink this.”

She took it from him and did as instructed, bringing the bottle to her chapped lips. It was cold and felt good, as if she was washing a bitter taste from her mouth.

“Welcome back.” 

She jumped when someone else walked into the room. It took her a moment to register who it was, but once she did, she glared at him even as he stalked across the room and placed a bowl of water and a washcloth on her bedside table. 

“No need to look at me like that.” The Master told her as he stepped back to stand behind Graham.

She tried to speak again, and managed to croak out a few words. “Why are you here?”

Graham placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Yaz, do you remember what happened?”

“What?” She asked. Her voice was still hoarse, and she took another sip. 

“I said this might happen.” The Master said. “She’ll remember. It’ll just take a moment.”

“Remember what?” She asked. “Why am I ... ? What’s on ... ?”

She reached up to feel the ...  thing on her head. As soon as her fingers brushed the metal, however, she sucked in a breath as her mind finally caught up to her body. Memories came flooding back. The Doctor injured. The Master helping them. Travelling through the Doctors mind, Ryan ...

“Ryan? The Doctor?” She asked, suddenly alert. “Where are they? Are they okay?”

At his name, one of the other patients stirred. She turned and saw Ryan roll over into his back, groaning. Graham left her to sit by his grandson, grabbing another water bottle that had appeared on the table and helped lift the boy into a similar position she was in.

“What’s going on ... ?” Ryan mumbled, voice rough just like hers had been. He blinked open his eyes. 

“You’re alright, son.” Graham said calmly. “Drink this.”

As Graham dealt with Ryan, she pushed the thin white sheet off herself. She would have to redo her hair, as it kept flying in her face. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering a bit when her socked feet his the floor, but when she went to stand up —

She yelped when her legs went out from under her. In a flash, the Master caught her and heaved her up on the bed again. She didn’t have much time to think about it before the Timelord backed away, frowning at her.

“You won’t be able to walk yet. Wait a few minutes.” He said. “You can take that off, now.”

Just nodding at him, she slowly removed the machine from her head. It didn’t weigh much, but with it gone she felt lighter. She was so focused on it that she almost didn’t hear the Master tell her. “You can use the cloth and water.” Then, to Graham. “I’ll be back in minute.”

He padded out of the room, and she stared at the bowl sitting on her table. Usually, she would deny anything the Master tried to give her, but right now her entire body felt stiff and crusty so she dipped the washcloth in the bowl, squeezed the excess water out, and gently rubbed her face.

The water helped chase away any remaining fuzziness from her mind. She glanced at the other patient who hadn’t woken up yet. The Doctor wasn’t wearing the thing like Yaz and Ryan, someone had taken it off. They looked peaceful in their sleep, blonde hair spread out across the pillow like a halo. Their breathing was light and gentle, and they looked like they didn’t have a care in the world. 

However, Yaz could feel ... something emitting from the alien. Something she couldn’t feel before. She ignored it.

“How long have we’ve been out?” She questioned, turning to stare at Graham and Ryan. Ryan seemed mostly recovered, and Graham had moved from the bed to stand awkwardly between the two of them.

“About three days.” Graham answered. She turned back to the Doctor.

“When will they wake up?” She asked, keeping her eyes focused on her sleeping friend.

“The Master said it depends.” Graham replied. “Could be a few more hours, or a few days.”

She nodded just as the Master returned, as if summoned. She wondered if she said his name three times in the mirror while spinning he would appear to scowl at her. Right now, he was holding a handful of granola bars. As he passed, he threw one at Ryan, who didn’t catch it, and one at Graham, which landed on the floor as Graham hadn’t been expecting it.

He also threw one to her, and she caught it with fumbling fingers. Just now realizing how hungry she was, she tore open the package and took a bite. She forced herself to go slowly.

The Master, however, pocketed the last bar and sat on the edge of the Doctors bed. Slowly, as if there was no one else in the room, he brushed a stray piece of hair off the Doctors forehead in way she could only describe as tender, a word she never would have thought to use to describe the Timelord in front of her.

“Will they be okay?” She asked softly.

The Master turned to look at her. An emotion she couldn’t quite place sat in his eyes. “If you got out, they got out.”

She nodded. It wasn’t really an answer, but she took it anyway.

~*~

The Doctor came awake a few hours later.

Unlike Yaz and Ryan, the Timelord scared everyone but popping straight up in bed with a cry, as if they had been woken from a nightmare and were still feeling the rements of it. Then, she remembered they had.

The Master, who was now sitting in one of the frankly uncomfortable-looking chairs, was the first to move. He was up on his feet in a second and rushed to the Doctors side, face twisting into a frown.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he perched on the edge of the bed. He helped them lean up against the wall. “How are you feeling?”

“Head hur’s.” They slurred. He nodded, understanding, and grabbed the last water bottle from the table and held up to their lips. They took a few sips before he gently removed it and placed it on the table again.

“Where’s - where’s my ... ?” They muttered. He smiled, softly if a bit bitter.

“They’re all right here.” He shifted over to give them a clear view of her, Ryan and Graham. She smiled and went to say something, but the Master once again blocked the Doctors view of them. She frowned, but didn’t say anything.

Swallowing, the Doctor seemed to find their strength again. They pushed themselves up a bit more and stared at the other Timelord. “And you?”

Their voice was still shaky and rough, but it somehow managed to fit a lot of weight into the words.

“You think I couldn’t survive a simple explosion?” He shrugged. “The death particle took a few minutes to settle in, and I managed to escape.”

“Of course.” They chuckled. “Even death couldn’t keep you.”

He pulled the granola bar from his pocket and offered it to them. They shook their head, and he placed it beside the water bottle. Yaz willed herself to stay quiet when the Doctor, very slowly and tentatively, grabbed his hand which rested on the clean white sheets.

They interlocked their fingers, and the Master didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed to lean closer and let out a small sigh. 

Yaz looked away, feeling as if she was imposing on a private moment, and glancing at Ryan and Graham showed they felt the exact same way.

~*~

Luckily, by time her legs could support her weight again, the rest of her body had recovered. Her stomach stopped growling and she could speak normally again. The first thing she had done when she was let out of medbay was to go and change into new clothes.

When putting her jacket away, she couldn’t help herself but check the pockets. There was nothing, just as she had anticipated, but she couldn’t help the way her heart fell or the small pinprick at the back of her mind.

Two days after being ‘cleared’, her and Ryan sat at the kitchen table, eating the breakfast that the TARDIS had apparently made. Graham was still sleeping, and she didn’t think the Master or the Doctor were in the mood the eat. It should have been a nice calm, relaxing morning.

Expect for Ryan, who, very obviously, had something to tell her.

“Okay, I give in.” She said as Ryan once again shifted uncomfortably. “What’s bothering you?”

Usually, whenever she asked Ryan ‘what’s bothering you?’ he would deny anythings wrong until the third time she asked. Expect, this time, the boy sighed and placed down his fork, showing just how worried he was.

“I’m thinking about the Doctors mind.” He said.

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because it was creepy as hell.” He said. “That’s their  brain . They said it was normal but ... it can’t be healthy.”

She nodded. “I agree, but what can we do?”

Ryan frowned at his food as if it had caused him great personal offence. “Talk to them, maybe?”

She snorted. “As if that will ever happen.”

“Yeah.” Ryan muttered. The conversation was over, and they both went back to picking at their eggs. If she strained her ears hard, she thought she could hear the wind echoing throughout the corridors, but it was lost underneath the beeping of the ship. 

She remembered what she saw in the Doctors mind, what she had felt when she had first woken up. She found, suddenly, she wasn’t very hungry anymore.

~*~

The Doctor was still put on bed rest, despite their grumbling. However, on the third day since they had woken up, they walked into the medbay to check on the Doctor only to find the Master in there as well.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his usual position, but instead of bantering with the Doctor (she couldn’t tell if it was aggressive or friendly) he was just watching them sleep. In any of instance, it would be creepy, but Yaz knew that the Timelord has barley left the medbay at all since the Doctor awoke.

There were no greetings when she entered, which she was thankful for. The Master seemed just as keen to not talk to her as she was not to talk to him. In fact, the Master barley spoke to them at all. The most words exchanged were between him and Graham, and it was mostly snark over being stuck together for three days while everyone else slept.

She padded deeper into the room, mindful of the way her footsteps rang throughout the room. The Master didn’t look up as she approached, still focused on the Doctor. They were sleeping, breathing even and face free of all stress.

Very slowly, she came to a stop at the edge of the bed and sat down. The mattress dipped, but the Doctor didn’t even stir. The only sound was the occasional beep of the TARDIS or hitch of the Doctors breath as they snored softly.

“They’ll be okay.” He said, breaking the silence. His voice echoed in the near-empty room. “Their injuries are all healed, and their strength will be back in about a day. But most of the damage was internal. It’s mostly healed.”

“Mostly?” She asked. She noticed the two Timelords were holding hands again, and the Master was rubbing soothing circles on the Doctors knuckles with his thumb.

“They were in there a long time.” He said. “And they had been a through a huge emotional trauma right before, which would affect their mental state.”

She was about to snap that he was the one who caused the ‘emotional trauma’, but didn’t. She actually had no clue what part the Master played in her friends mental deterioration or hellscape mind. The Doctor barley talked about what had happened on Gallifrey. She shuddered just thinking of it.

“I’ll be leaving in a few hours.” He said. “I just need to make just the equipment it properly cleaned.”

“You can’t leave.” She said quickly. His hand stilled, thumb stopping its soothing motion. “They still need you.”

“They don’t. They’re strong.” He said. “I’ve already overstayed my welcome.”

She thought about the Doctor and the Master. Their relationship wasn’t as black and white as she had thought when she saw they had first interacted. On that crashing plane, she thought they hated eachother. But now she could see it was a lot more complicated then that.

They loved eachother. But, like the Doctor said, they had went very different ways in life.

“You care for them.” She whispered. “And they care for you. I don’t think they’d mind if you stayed long enough to say goodbye.”

He looked like he was going to sneer at her, but didn’t at the last second. “Our relationship is very complex, Yaz. This is the easiest way for both of us.”

She stewed over those words for a minute. He seemed to take her silence as acceptance, because he pulled her hand away from the Doctors. He stared at the other Timelord for a long moment, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to their forehead, lingering a moment too long for it to be a normal goodbye. For once, she didn’t feel a flair of protectiveness kick in. 

With one last soft glance over the Doctor, he stood up. She did too, though she didn’t really know why.

They locked eyes for the first time since he’d been there. She couldn’t stand to look at them — they were so old, so full of emotion — but she found right now she didn’t mind all the secrets.

“Take care of them.” He said.

She nodded. The man stalked by her and left the room. She watched the Doctor breath softly, and only let out a breath of her own when she heard the Masters footsteps receded.

She felt very guilty, though she didn’t know why.

~*~

When Yaz, Ryan and Graham walked into the medbay, the Doctor was awake and frowning.

“Where is he?” They asked. They all froze, and Yaz felt her heart seize. Apparently, that was answer enough because the Timelord just sighed.

“I never expected him to stay long.” They admitted. “Just wished it was a bit longer.”

She thought of her conversation with the Master before he left. Slowly, she padded over. The Doctor was staring at their hands, frowning, before shaking their head and looking up at Yaz as she approached.

Just like the Masters eyes, the Doctors held thousands of years worth of knowledge. She thought about travelling through that brilliant mind, all the memories and stories and secrets hidden inside, and sighed.

“I know.” She said. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” The Doctor immediately perked up. “No need to apologize, Yasmin Khan! Unless your apologizing for keeping me in here. Now that he’s gone, I can —“

However, everyone yelped when the Doctor went to get up out of a bed only to fall flat on their face.

~*~

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

The Doctor smiled at her from across the console. “Of course! Tip top shape, I’m in.”

Yaz thought about her conversation with Ryan as they landed. The TARDIS shuddered as it’s normal wheezing died off. The Doctor flipped a few switches, unaware of all the words trying to force their way up her throat.

_You can talk to us_.  She wanted to say.  _We’re here for you. You’re our family._

Instead, she just smiled when the Timelord looked up at the three of them. They were all freshly showered and changed, standing in a line by the door. After their ... adventure, they agreed to go home for more than a weekend. One full week to spend time with their families and recover. 

She thought of the Master, of his goodbye when the Doctor was sleeping, and frowned. She wondered how different things would have been if the Doctor had been awake when he tried to leave.

“Here you go. Sheffield.” The Doctor stated, snapping her from her thoughts. “Right on time.”

“What are ya’ gonna do, Doc’?” Graham asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t know.” The Timelord shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just skip ahead a week.”

“ No .” She said firmly. “You need just as much time off as the rest of us.”

Her friend frowned. “Fine, then. Solo adventure. Do some repairs.”

Noting their snappish tone, Yaz shot them a smile in a attempt to pacify them. “Don’t get too crazy.”

Sensing the mood change, the Doctor smiled back, eyes flickering across the three of them. “I won’t. Have fun.”

They all turned to leave, Graham going first and putting a hand on the handle to push the door open. However, the Doctor spoke up again, voice tentative and soft. “Hey, guys?”

They all stopped and turned to stare at them. Yaz was the only one who replied. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for taking care of me.” They said softly, looking everywhere, it seemed, but them. “And for everything.”

Yaz smiled. “It’s no problem.”

The Doctor nodded, then waved them goodbye. They all waved back before stepping out of the TARDIS. Breathing in fresh air, seeing a sky not tainted with smoke, was a welcome sight and she filled her lungs to top. The TARDIS dropped them off in its normal spot, right outside her apartment building.

As the TARDIS dematerialized behind them, Yaz took a deep breath and Graham turned to her. “We’ll see you in a week, then?”

“Yeah.” She said. “See ya’.”

Graham smiled, nodded, then started to walk off. Ryan punched her shoulder playfully, grinning lop-sided. “I’ll see you sooner, yeah?”

“Yep. I’ll call ya’.” She replied to her friend. Ryan chuckled and walked after his grandad, casting one last wave towards her over his shoulder. She waved back, smiling lightly before turning around, staring up at her apartment building.

Inside, her family waited. Her hand strayed to her empty pocket, words and faces echoing in her head. Slowly, she counted to three. On the last number, she started walking inside. 

She wondered if one day, she would a chess piece, or a nameless face on a nameless card.

Maybe she should look into tarot cards. It seemed important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> made it to the FUCKING end everyone dear god
> 
> anyway, uh, thanks for reading this entire shitshow!! I’m proud of it so I’m glad people actually read it. 
> 
> if you want to read more of my Doctor Who fics, I have a few more one-shots planned (all based off songs lmao). there’s also my series “a hundred bad days make a hundred good stories” which has some shit too.
> 
> please point out any spelling/grammar mistakes you see. thanks for reading. :)

**Author's Note:**

> and so we’re off!! hopefully people will like this because I’m proud of it and excited to post whoop.
> 
> please point out any spelling/grammar mistakes you see!! I appreciate it.
> 
> thanks for reading.


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